O Clube

The Club is about of group of former male priests who have been sent to live in a house for supposedly being incapable of properly ministering, when something horrible happens outside their house and a young priest-psychiatrist joins them in the hopes of finding out what's going on, and putting the former priests back on the right track.

The movie has so many twists and turns, it's probably better that you don't know much more about it. And that's something that I loved. It's unpredictable, and the movie just goes along without over dramatizing much, thus making it just a little more real.

Right from the get-go, this is a beautifully shot movie. Every scene is gorgeous, and the gloomy color pallet really helps set the tone. Even the coloring of the house sets the mood incredibly well, and allows an atmosphere of dark sadness to settle over the entire film.

The acting is all pretty good. The characters are convincing as characters, and they react in ways that I think a lot of people would in their situation. This is often due to the writing, which is also great. The dialogue is intriguing and pulls the story along with nice pacing.

The movie is pretty slow to start. When the dog races are first introduced, I thought it'd be about dog racers and lost interest. However, I'm happy I stuck with it because it gets better. Much better.

Despite how well-made and unpredictable the movie is, I found myself somewhat distant from it emotionally. Scenes that should have shocked or made me tear up had little effect. While it captured discomfort perfectly, it didn't quite capture other emotions.

Overall The Club is great. The acting, writing, shots, and story are all very engaging, all with a little too much discomfort. It lacks emotional investment and intrigue right off the bat, but it gets better. In the end I would definitely recommend this movie.

Pablo Larrain (No) returns with another story that shadows his country with 'The Club'. Before the details emerge, this story is nothing like 'No'.

'The Club' takes place in the somewhat remote coastal village of La Boca Navidad where a house of secret guests exists: they are either child molesters, baby snatchers, or were active supporters of Pinochet, and they were all Priests. They have all been excommunicated from the Catholic Church for their crimes and sent away to this house as not to harm the Church's image instead of being put in the public eye and then thrown in jail. The house is quarterbacked by a Nun who also suffered a similar fate as her house guests.

One day, a new guest comes to join The Club, only to be eventually tracked down by a former altar boy who shouted claims of constant abuse from outside the house for him to hear. Not long after, we learn that these claims are true, and the reaction sets off a further investigation into the requirement for the house and the livelihood of the guests who reside there.

'The Club' isn't an artistic work that should be shared for praise and glorified for any kind of distinction. Instead, it clearly details the horrific nature of how the Catholic Church deals with their worst offenders — by putting them in houses in rural locations, 100% funded by the Church. As the film progresses, we learn that the house mates have ways of passing the time — good and bad. Some are healthy, while others are vices. Eventually, when the house comes under inspection by the Church as to whether it should remain or not, extreme actions are taken to try and keep things intact.

While advertised as a dark comedy, this film is almost nowhere near that. It was intended to show the evil behind the Church, and that its image cannot be tarnished. In a continent that houses 40% of the world's Catholics, a film like this definitely sticks a thorn in the Church's side. It gets dark, it gets rather nasty, it gets brutal, but, while it's just a story with fictional accounts, they were created via true stories over the years.

Watch this film with the expectation that you will be shocked by what you see and hear, but hopefully you will be moved enough to know that there's evil where good supposedly resides.

In a small fishing village 4 men and 1 woman cohabitate in a house. Their greatest joy in life is training and racing a small greyhound they collectively own, and they hold ambitions of buying and training more dogs so they can make more money. But their peaceful existence is broken when a another man comes to join their ranks. He, like the other men, is fallen member of the holy order, and though they are immediately suspicious of him, they put on a brave face. It isn't long however, before a victim of this new arrival literally shows up on their doorstep, shouting about the ways in which he was victimized and refusing to go away. What happens next shakes the little club to their core and disrupts their pleasant way of life.

This is a movie about some thoroughly unpleasant people. There is no one really to root for. The men and woman seem benign at first, but as they continue to talk they expose themselves for the greedy, selfish, self-interested people they are. While they have been taken out of commission and sequestered in a house, ostensibly to do penance, they have instead carved out a cushy life for themselves, each one privately convinced that they are in actual fact good, and are locked up with a bunch of degenerates.

While the film is beautifully shot, this is a film where the strength lies in the acting and the script. While not visually graphic the film has some very graphic dialogue about the crimes of some of the priests which are about what you would expect given the history of pedophilia in the Catholic church. It's a slow burn of a movie, but the more you watch the more you will feel disturbed as the members of the club expose themselves for who they really are.

My, this is one forthright and uncompromising. One reviewer suggested this was one club he did not wish to be a member of - what an understatement! Set in a godforsaken western coastal town in Chile, the muted colours and dulled visuals match the dour subject matter, if not the depths of degradation and abuse of power depicted here. Verbal depiction only, thank goodness, as this awful tale of bad catholic priests, really bad catholic priests and barely believably bad catholic priests, unfolds in a house for the repentant sinners. Except they are not repentant at all and seem to view their living quarters as some vaguely inconvenient holiday home. A devastating film of crimes against children made all the worse for the winging and wining manner that the various 'inmates' justify or even boast of their appalling past activities. Grim but essential viewing for anyone not fully aware of just how terrible and just how widespread and all consuming these practices were (are!!).

Four disgraced Catholic priests and a mysterious nun live together in a house situated in a remote seaside town. Each must atone for sins of the past. Collectively they comprise the "The Club".

And they don't take kindly to guests.

Chilean Director Pablo Larraín (who also shares writing and producing credit) does masterful work here creating an unremittingly dreary and dour atmosphere right from the opening frame. Even those scenes where the sun is shining feel decidedly dim in his film.

And the overarching tone befits the performances. This is fine ensemble work from the aforementioned five principle characters. The supporting cast is equally as impressive. Together these actors deliver a common thread of acute despondency and resignation to the dire circumstances which have come to consume and define their dismal lives.

It would be an exercise in easy to dismiss, or at the very least, minimize, "The Club" as a portrait of punishing depression and abject absolution. But I will submit that it is more than merely such uncomplicated characterization.

Larraín pulls nary a punch in his raw and unsettling condemnation of an omnipotent organization which has continued to figuratively turn it's head in the face of evil transgression rather than face the sordid depravity head on and work to root out and vanquish it.

The final moments of "The Club" brings the notion of "The New Church" and the suggestion that there is perhaps systemic change afoot in institutional Catholicism. These scenes also introduce a new boarder into the house in the person of a severely scarred victim of that which has been allowed to permeate in perpetuity and practically without punity.

But what we can not know, and what Larraín clearly leaves ambiguous by intent, is this: Will "The Club" welcome their new tenant in a spirit of repentance and forgiveness? Or will they treat this interloper as they have all other unwelcome invasions of their duplicitous commune? We can only hope for the former. Still, there is little expectation that our wish will be fulfilled. For by now we have come to learn in no uncertain terms that this is a congregation whose service is certainly not in the name of God. But rather in the shame of.

"The Club" is not at all pleasant to watch. It is alarmingly disturbing, spiritually jarring and leaves you adrift in a wake of lingering despair. This is not to say that it is a bad film. For it is not. It is to maintain, nonetheless, that it is a film about bad people violating all that is sacred about the human condition. Particularly by those who have vowed to operate in a manner mirroring that of divinity much more so than mortality.